


Coda to 12x04

by maggief



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen or Pre-Slash, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-05
Updated: 2016-11-05
Packaged: 2018-08-29 05:39:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8477389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maggief/pseuds/maggief
Summary: It’s not until they’re back in the bunker that evening that Dean really stops think about the day’s events. They’ve seen it before, but it still guts him every time; when man is the real monster.
A short coda of Dean's thoughts at the end of ep 12x04.





	

It’s not until they’re back in the bunker that evening that Dean really stops think about the day’s events. They’ve seen it before, but it still guts him every time; when man is the real monster. After everything they’ve seen, all the demons, all the beasts and monsters from myths and legends, that it’s man, normal human, _man_ , that causes the most damage, that can leave their own children beaten, bloody, dead.

His mind flashes back to John. John had been… A good man, once. And a good father. Dean still knows that he only ever tried his best, although Sam would still question his devotion to the man. Time and distance have given that devotion some perspective, but Dean is still loyal to the memory of John Winchester, despite their disagreements over the years.

He wonders what Mary, what _Mom_ , would think of John as he was in the end. That earnest all-American boy that she so wanted to shield from the life she lived, the life she thought she’d escaped. How bitter, and angry he was by the end, the only driving force in his life the rage and impotence he’d felt at the death of his wife. And then, there she had been; real, alive and whole. Standing in front of Dean in the same dress she’d burned in, lines on her face and grey in her hair like she’d lived those years herself, and hadn’t been dead and cold the whole time instead.

He still can’t wrap his head around it. And so he gets why she left, he does. He’ll admit that it hurt, when he’d realised she was leaving them, again. He might not admit it out loud, but he is … better with acknowledging his emotions nowadays. Expressing them is still a challenge, but at least he knows his flaws. He’d flinched when Mary had tried to hug him before she left, couldn’t take the weight of a mother’s hug as she was walking away from them, walking away from her family. All these years now, he’d gotten used to it just being him and Sammy. And Cas. And he’d just started to widen that space in his heart to include one more, to include Mary as a real person rather than just a memory, and then she was going. Gone. The look on Sam’s face in that moment had almost been too hard to bear. Sam Winchester, towering over everyone, but sometimes still a small lost child, who’s never known his mother, and doesn’t understand why his father’s never there either. Little Sam Winchester, who’d finally learnt what it felt like to be hugged by his mother. Only to have it ripped away.

Dean had been angry on Sam’s behalf, not just his own. But he understands now that people just need space sometimes, even when they love each other.

He also, also, understands why Cas is teaming up with Crowley. Better the devil… well, you know the saying. But damnit does he not trust Crowley in the slightest. Doesn’t like the idea of Cas being anywhere near Lucifer again if they do manage to catch up to him. But Cas is his own person, or angel, whatever, and Dean has no right to tell him what to do. He’s scared though. And god, that’s not an emotion Dean Winchester admits to often. Scared for Cas, of Crowley and of Lucifer. He’d caught the look on Cas’s face when he’d returned to the bunker after Amara had left him alive. Seen the sheer devastation in his eyes before he registered that Dean was alive, that he was right here in front of him. And Dean, Dean knows that he’d be the same. It had hurt when Mary left, but if Cas died, if Cas left them once and for all, no take backs, no resurrections, Dean doesn’t like to think where that would leave him.

He thinks back to Purgatory, to that desperate search to find Cas, and then to get them both out of there alive. His desperate need to blame himself, to block out the fact that Cas chose to stay, chose to leave him. He understands that decision now, as well, understands the essence of Cas’s morality that made it so he _had_ to stay there. That was bad enough, even though he knew Cas was still alive, even though he had faith that Cas would come back to them eventually, come back to him.

He wonders also, could Cas not sense that Dean was still alive when his Amara bomb had been diffused? He doesn’t think he’s being delusional in believing that he and Cas are connected in some way, that the fate of their souls has been tied together ever since Cas raised him from Hell. Aren’t their souls connected? Do angels even have souls? Dean would have sworn down to the dust of his bones that the bond that he and Cas had forged together was greater than distance, greater than Heaven or Hell, the Devil or Purgatory. When Cas had been possessed by Lucifer, it had been Dean’s voice that had called him back, if only for short moment. It had been Dean for whom Cas has defied the whole of Heaven, whom Cas had Fallen for.

And Dean? Well, since he’s being honest about his emotions tonight, Dean fell for Cas too.

He rolls over in bed and looks at the time, trying to ignore that last thought. Three a.m. and still he’s wide awake. He thumps the pillow underneath his head and stares at the ceiling.

And he thinks about Cas.

Just as he’s finally dropping off to sleep, his phone buzzes quietly from his nightstand, and he reaches over to pick it up.

**Cas:** _How did your case go? Was it a witch?_

He realises he forgot to update Cas when they’d wrapped the case earlier, and has just thumbed the screen open when another text comes through.

**Cas:** _You do recall I can always hear you when you pray to me, Dean._

It’s not even a question and Dean feels like all the air has been punched out of his lungs. Is Cas mad? Does he know what Dean is thinking about? He’s desperately trying to think about how to reply without giving anything away when his phone buzzes for a third time.

**Cas:** _I miss you too._

The words are so simple, and yet so, so profound. So full of meaning. Dean smiles, softly, to himself and breathes easily again before texting back.

**Dean:** _Stay safe. I’ll see you soon._

So simple, yet so full of promise.

\---------------

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. Cross-posted on my [tumblr](http://iameverywhere.tumblr.com) as well - come say hi :)


End file.
